


Guilt

by KabochaKitsune



Category: Naruto
Genre: Drabble, Explicit Language, Implied Sexual Content, Implied/Referenced Character Death, M/M, Mildly Dubious Consent, Minor Violence
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-03-11
Updated: 2017-03-11
Packaged: 2018-10-02 15:33:48
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 683
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/10221497
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/KabochaKitsune/pseuds/KabochaKitsune
Summary: It's post-war in the Founders Era of Konoha.  Tobirama intends to remain professional.  Madara has something to say.





	

**Author's Note:**

  * Inspired by [I'd like to imagine Madara saying things to psychologically torture Mr. Senju Tobirama because well… he probably deserves it](https://archiveofourown.org/external_works/273308) by blishhed. 



Lips grazed up the slash of red ink painted through the center of a strong chin, seeking the pair pressed into a thin, firm line.

"Don't."

"Come now, Tobirama. Why else would you be here?"

"As I said, I came only to deliver this report from the Hokage."

"Pff. He knows it's my day off. If he sent you here to me, today, like this... he must know you need a little stress relief yourself."

"You're involved with Hashirama."

A chuckle. "And? He has his girl Mito." A lewd grin. "So do I, sometimes." He leaned in, resting his cheek against the Senju's broad shoulder, letting breath from parted lips float up past his ear. "And all three of us enjoy some side distractions, here and there. We're not exactly monogamous. What's the harm?"

"I killed your brother."

Madara paused. There was no emotion in his face, not for a long moment. The smirk was as faded as though it had never been.

And then the lines of that face reversed, teeth baring in a snarl, as fingers wrapped around the column of Tobirama's neck and _slammed_ him back that short space into the wall.

" _Why do you think I want you bent underneath me like a dog when I fuck you, Tobirama?_ "

The taller man didn't respond. Didn't resist the violence, either; just waited until Madara was done, and then lifted a hand and curled his fingers over the Uchiha's to pry the other's hand off his throat.

He didn't need to use much strength. In fact, as soon as those fingertips curled under Madara's index finger, making his intentions clear, the taut pull of that hand relaxed, and the brunet slipped back and away, giving Tobirama room. One grey brow quirked upward, but still Tobirama kept his silence, turning his face away first before following with his shoulders, then stride, walking toward the door.

"You'll think about it."

Tobirama paused on the threshold.

"Maybe not every day, but sometimes. Sometimes late at night when you're alone with just your thoughts... you'll think of me. You'll think of what my hand felt like on your throat just now. You'll think about how my breath was hot on your ear and how it ruffled that scruffy hair of yours. You'll feel the strength in my arms when I pushed you against that wall.

"You'll also feel the way I gave way when you pushed. So you know I'll always stop if you really want me to. But you won't want me to. You'll _want_ to atone. To fill a little of that hole you made in my life with your own hands.

"You'll think about it.

"And then you'll come back, and you'll let me fuck you until a little bit of that guilt you pretend isn't there eases up a little on that hard heart you try to pretend you don't have. And you'll like it. I may want to punish you but I also want you to _enjoy_ it.

"I'm not you. I'm not going to kill a rival brother just because that's the fast way to the end."

Madara hadn't really expected to get all that out. But Tobirama didn't move while Madara spoke. The Uchiha didn't know why he was still there, for all that he knew the other would come back.

Tobirama didn't know either.

But he didn't forget a word of what the other said as he moved into the hall and down the stairs, showing himself out. Telling himself the Uchiha was deranged, as all Uchiha were.

Telling himself that repeatedly, over weeks.

Often late at night, when he was alone with just his thoughts.

Telling himself even as he darkened the Uchiha's doorway again, forty-one days after the last time he'd come there, with Madara's knowing glances – during meetings, at the market – fresh in his mind. Just as he'd told himself when he sullied his hands with his shame, images of dark hair floating in his mind's eye.

Madara opened the door without a word. He wasn't surprised in the least.

Honestly... neither was Tobirama.

**Author's Note:**

> Find me on other sites through my [carrd](https://kabochakitsune.carrd.co/)!


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